


Día de los Muertos

by Molly_Hats



Series: The Adventures of Undead Detective Bette Kane [2]
Category: Batwoman (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diary/Journal, Gen, Ghosts, Mother-Daughter Relationship, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Hats/pseuds/Molly_Hats
Summary: Bette reflects on her relationship with Maria Salvaje.





	Día de los Muertos

Día de los Muertos is coming up.

Maria celebrated it. And I don’t know much of anything about it.

I want to do something for it, for her, but I don’t know. That hammers in the point I’ve been ignoring, the nail sinking into my heart.

I wasn’t her daughter.

She called me pajarito, her sweetest girl, her daughter. But she called everyone that. She didn’t raise me. She didn’t care for me as anything more than a teammate.

If she ever loved me, it was only as a replacement for her children. When I loved her it was because I was so starved for it that I’d treasure anything resembling affection. I was broken, dead, abandoned. I made her into Mama. I let her live the fantasy, albeit a twisted one where her child was an undead blonde assassin.

So I don’t know anything about this holiday other than the bit I’ve picked up from pop culture. I didn’t even know Maria. 

But I still love her.

She still finds her place next to Aunt Kathy and Aunt Addie above my long forgotten real mom. And just like them, she’s gone. She left me. She never cared about me in any substantial way, not as anything more than a pet, an entertainment and bond always meant to be temporary. 

So this Día de los Muertos, I’m taking to the streets of Gotham. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know who I’m doing it for: for Maria, for myself, for my “siblings” who never got a chance to see the Maria I did, the Maria created from regret and grief for them. 

So Maria, I hope you’re at peace. Stupid as it is, I love you.

* * *

_Bette lifted the pen, sighed, and stared into space._

_“Hey, Bette?” Helena asked._

_Bette turned to Helena, all smiles. “What’s up?”_

_“Would you mind helping me with a bunch of papers? These kids are_ unbelievable _.”_

_Bette grinned. “Yeah, I’d love to. Can we do it in here?”_

_Helena nodded and ducked back out of the room. “I’ll grab the stuff.”_

_Slowly, deliberately, Bette ripped the pages of writing out of the journal, tore them into tiny pieces, and tossed them into the lit fireplace. She closed the journal and watched as the papers burned to ash._


End file.
